


Second First Kiss

by MutualMolotov



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MutualMolotov/pseuds/MutualMolotov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time you'd kissed Dirk he hadn't even been alive. Thankfully enough that isn't the case this time, but it doesn't mean your hands are shaking any less.<br/>(Relationship evaluation and thought process galore - Jake's POV )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second First Kiss

This might be the first time he’s ever been up so close to you but it’s not the first time you’ve been almost nose to nose with him.

That whole day had been an absolute nightmare of chaos and fast paced drama that you hadn’t really understood until much later. Everything had been rushing at a million miles an hour and it had been disappointing that you’d not played a larger part in it. I mean sure, your part had been completely and utterly crucial but you’d also had absolutely no control over the plan as it rocketed along and you’d felt much more like a pawn than the leader you’d always hoped you’d be. In hindsight though you suppose it was naive to ever think you’d be the one to lead your session.

Your part had been imperative though, and you remember the panic and confusion that held you as you stood clutching the bloodied head of your best friend as his AI demanded over and over that you kiss him.  
The mechanics of the game were a bit too complicated and technical for you and although the three of your team mates had all taken time to explain certain elements to you at different points of time you found it hard to even feign your interest. No matter the plot, in all your old films the main character always had a sidekick or some sort of help to deal with the boring, geeky procedure behind their plans and schemes and frankly you preferred a much more cut and dry approach. If there was something that needed fighting, a physical obstacle to overcome or bravado to be thrown around you were all for it but as soon as things got delicate and technical they also got boring. It was all too slow to keep your concentration and it wavered and wandered until whoever was explaining gave up. Maybe if you had kept a little more attention in the early days you’d have understood the situation at go time and been able to keep up, but you’d been completely left in the metaphorical dust at square one when the whistle finally blew. That is to say, you had no idea what the hell was happening.

Maybe if you’d listened and understood his plan you wouldn’t have freaked out quite so much when Dirk’s severed head had materialised suddenly in your lap. When you grabbed it the blood was still flowing, still warm and the heat hadn’t even left his skin. It didn’t take a genius to realise he had been alive only milliseconds ago and even as you held his hair the bright red blood seeped from between his lips to flow down his slack chin, and from his neck down your wrists to drip off your elbows. Nothing like this had ever happened in any film you’d seen and it made you feel utterly sick.

Hal yelled and implored at you from Dirk’s glasses to hurry the hell up, but all you could think of was how you were suddenly desperately thankful for how dark the shades were. The things were stupid and you could never take them seriously, but at least now they stopped you from seeing whatever glassy, dead expression Dirk’s eyes must have been frozen in as they stared back at you blankly. Had he thought to close his eyes before he pressed send? He must have thought about this – thought about what he was asking you to do. Or maybe the weight of his potential suicide was too heavy on his shoulders to think about stupid romantic implications.

Hal however, seemed to be relishing it. Everything he said to you was filled with a sense of glee he didn’t even try to hide. If he had a voice you were sure it would have been laughing. Hell, he was telling you to kiss him and that wasn’t even accurate.

Did Hal like you the way Dirk did?

You suppose it would make sense as they were one and the same person but you couldn’t help but see them in completely different lights. In fact you held Hal in contempt, real contempt that didn’t stretch to the real Strider. Hal got a bad rap in all honesty, as any negative feelings you had for Dirk –which was more than perhaps you might have admitted- were usually pushed onto the permanently preteen, robo version of him. Hal was treated like some sort of emotional scapegoat and you’d have felt awful if he didn’t almost seem to enjoy it. Hal had always loved pushing your buttons and getting a rise out of you and it made it difficult to sympathise to his feelings when he didn’t seem to care about yours.

But none of that mattered. There wasn’t time for this! Hal reminded you over and over that this was your moment and you had to act now or else everyone was doomed but all you could think of was that it was never supposed to be like this.

There was something inevitable about you and Dirk which had made you come to expect that things would have to go down when you finally met. He had a hold on you that somewhere in your gut you knew wasn’t all that healthy but that feeling was easily pushed aside and a million others much more in favour of your potential relationship were ready to take its place. And those feelings were much more enticing.  
He was different. He was exciting, clever, confusing and ultimately he made your heart race. Everyone said that if he wanted something he would get it and you were no exception. It should scare you and you should feel indignant but even back when you’d first realised he’d liked you, you had just accepted it. And that had meant you’d spent time wondering exactly how things would go down – would he kiss you? Or would he make you come to him? Would it be awkward or had he, in all his Strider omnipotence, already worked out that you’d practically surrendered to your want for him? You’d watched scenes on TV where the protagonist finally got the girl and caught your breath hitching when you replaced them in your head with yourself and Dirk. You’d considered where you’d put your hands and jeez, you’d even wondered what his mouth might taste like, before you’d covered your blushing face with your hands and stifling frustrated groans, turned off the television.

But this you’d never predicted.  
  
First kisses were meant to mean something and you felt like you were having this moment stolen from you. You just had to make something of it, something of the kiss you’d never actually share and of the only small part you were going to be playing in getting your friends safe and into the game. Control of your situation had been ripped from you in every single aspect of your life and you had to claw in order to get any back. But fine, if you were going to do this you were going to do it your way.

You hadn’t even felt that stupid taking an extra few moments to climb up the small mound of rocks to the side of the volcano and to hold Dirk’s head up as if he was actually there and not just a skull in your hands. You tried to forget the situation, to shut Hal and the hot, wet sensation of blood on your arms out and closed your eyes. Pressing your forehead to Dirk’s briefly you choked a small, frustrated sob before you kissed him.  
A peck would have done it; quick and simple job done but you held it. His mouth didn’t move against yours like you’d always imagined, and all you could taste was blood whilst your eyes stung with tears and your stomach churned. It was horrible but you were determined to wrench whatever meaning you could out of the gesture and only finally pulled away when you heard your friends calling your name.

Then you’d felt stupid. More than that, you’d felt sick. There was warm blood on your lips, in your mouth and down your chin and you stared straight back into the face you’d just pulled away from. You knew they’d be alive – that was the whole point of this stupid arrangement, but you were still desperately relieved to see real living versions of your friends even as they watched you with varying levels of disgust. Jane was horrified, Roxy couldn’t seem to decide if she wanted to laugh, cheer or cry and Dirk... well you couldn’t tell. You didn’t want to look at him.

-

After having embarrassed yourself so fully straight away, Dirk had really taken the chance to make a joke and keep the ice broken. Or rather, he had tried to create a facade that that was how things were. Sure enough it held when the girls were around, but as soon as they left it started to fail.

Naturally enough you’d split into teams almost straight away and Roxy and Jane had gone to alchemize, plunder, pillage and actually play the god damn game properly. You envied the girls as much as you felt sorry for them, with the idea you had for Jane’s feelings for you and Roxy’s for Dirk. They hadn’t gotten what they might have wanted but they weren’t held back by the tension or restricted by the complications that had both you and Dirk stumbling over simple, game crucial tasks. It was almost a godsend that parts of LOMAX were so toxic that you had to alchemize gasmasks. It cut down conversation and more than anything it shielded your face from Dirk’s scrutinising. He could read you like a book and it had you constantly on edge.

You got over the initial embarrassment of having your friends witness just how carried away you’d gotten back in front of that volcano quicker than expected, and soon enough the elephant in the room of your relationship was getting irritatingly large and testing your patience. Dirk had an issue with touching you – even just for a brief second to hand you things or if you bumped into him whilst walking. He seized up a little when you hugged him and even the handshake you’d gone for when you had finally set down that head had been more awkward than you’d wanted. Dirk was very cagey and tightly wound, and it was just frustrating.

Every now and again your conversations would get into a good flow, usually after a fight or just when a mutually exciting topic came up and you were instantly transported back to the late nights you’d shared nattering with your best friend about nothing in particular. It made the feeling of what was ultimately affection glow your chest like it had before, even though you were sat alone, a million miles and years away from him.  
It was even stronger in person as you could read him a little better, small reactions in his face fleshed out his character and all you really wanted was for those conversations to never end so that the Dirk you knew would stay. But as they dried up so did he and soon enough you were faced with the careful, formal version of your friend who really left you unsatisfied. You knew he got anxious and in his own way, he got shy. But you’d always hoped that you were one of the people he would never feel like he had to keep his guard up around and it hurt just as much as it frustrated you to see him like this.

And so you made it your goal to break down the wall between you and after one rather long, quiet and pretty fruitless day of grist hunting you had slumped down on the floor of one of the higher buildings on your planet.  
Rubbing the sweat from your forehead after you had pulled your mask off, you fluffed up your hair carelessly and pushed your glasses back onto your nose from your pocket. From the corner of your eye you saw Dirk do the same, but he made the movement in a quick blur, putting his stupid shades back on his face seemingly instantaneously after his mask was gone. You understood now more than ever that his glasses were less about the frames themselves and more about what they covered up. God forbid he actually show an honest emotion, after all.

Yawning wide and stretching your legs as you glance out from the long window you’re sat next to, you fold your arms behind your head and watch the horizon. Where the different gases of your planet mix in the light the colours swirl and diffuse in strange, almost aurora like patterns. It’s pretty to watch and although it never really gets properly dark it casts a glow across the buildings that make you think of those old, tacky retro lamps you used to be able to get on earth. Of course they’re all gone now, along with everything else you knew so you try not to dwell too much on those thoughts.  
Dirk sits across from, not next to, you and idly watches it too. Or at least you assume, as those glasses mean you can never be quite sure where he’s looking. The lights make you tired and the cooling planet is soothing and part of you thinks it would be easier to grab something to eat and curl up with your phone to watch a movie before heading to sleep but you’d decided that morning you’d finally talk to him. He wasn’t about to bring anything up himself, so you ought to take what control you had and just go for it.

“Dirk?” You start, still looking outside, gathering your wits before glancing back to where he sits across from you. You usually call him by his second name, or some sort of nickname so you wonder if his first name sounds as weird in your mouth as it feels.

“Do you still fancy me?” The phrase comes out blunt and you see him almost flinch just about the same time as heat comes rushing to your face. With your colouring and the less than bright light he might have not noticed as your voice never wavered, but hearing it aloud the words were a lot more brazen than they’d seemed in your head. There’s no taking them back though, so you try to roll with it.

You can tell he doesn’t want to look like he’s broken your gaze, but something tells you that behind his shades he has. He’s pale enough that you can see a red tinge to his face and it adds a depth to his hard expression that makes you feel remarkably fond despite the dull panic in your stomach. He takes a moment before he says anything.

“Yeah.” He says firmly, but a little quietly. You can see tension in his shoulders. You had half expected him to play dumb but you’re frankly thankful that he didn’t. Although that would definitely have been easier to retort to and suddenly your mouth feels dry as you try to work out what to say. If you’d have spoken your mind you would have said something stupid like ‘good’ or ‘thank god’, but instead you just nod, swallowing thickly against a lump that suddenly formed in your throat.

“Why?” He asks after a long moment of silence and you can hear something in his voice you can’t place. Anyone might have said he sounded annoyed or maybe defensive but it comes across to you as pained. As if he regretted asking that question even before it had left his mouth. Every time he gives himself away like that you feel a little more confident, a little more in control of whatever is happening and you’re reminded that Dirk is actually, despite it all and the jokes you often make, only human too.

“I just wondered what sort of fellow sent his own literally bloody head to someone he was trying to court. ” You say, letting a little grin tug at one corner of your mouth and a slight chuckle reach your words. Your smile relaxes the blonde though and after a moment you see him smile a little too. It makes your stomach twist.

“You didn’t appreciate the gift? Well damn, English, I’m sorry but I didn’t keep the receipt.” There’s confidence in his voice amidst tentative excitement and nerves.  
“And who say’s I’m trying to ‘court’ you anyway?” Dirk adds, expertly cocking one eyebrow that’s way too dark for the rest of his hair above his glasses questioningly. It’s a ridiculous retort but you expected it. You just shrug lightly as if you honestly couldn’t care less.

“Well alright, but if you ever change your mind, for future reference I think I’m more of a roses and chocolates sort of chap.” You can’t stop yourself from sniggering at that and Dirk’s expression only makes you laugh harder. His eyebrows rise comically to meet his hair before he looks away with a snort, obviously having made the mistake of taking you seriously for a moment.

“One dozen or two?” He titters and you’re surprised at how well the conversation seems to be going.

“Are you flirting with me, Strider?” The retort leaves your mouth before you can even catch it and whilst your stomach is swarming with butterflies the adrenaline is addictive. You feel like you’re on some sort of knife edge, not entirely sure what is on either side but enjoying the thrill far too much to care.

“You fucking started it.” He’s grinning and seeing him that openly pleased is a goddamn treasure. Neither of you have moved though, so he’s too out of range for the playful shove you would have loved to give him.  
You’d need an excuse to move and ordinarily you might try to find one, but he’d see right through you anyway so without saying anything you get up. When you move it’s a little lazily; the floor of the room is solid and unforgiving and sitting against it for so long sent your legs to sleep. Settling down next to him across from the open window where it’s a little darker you cross your legs and meet his questioning expression with a little smile. You can tell he’s trying desperately to seem chill but at the same time get a read on you, maybe even talking to Hal at the same time, crunching numbers on whatever probabilities might be fuelling your actions. It’s funny and a bit ridiculous to watch him mentally flounder like that.

It takes a second for him to finish whatever it was that he was doing and you’ve got your head leant back against the wall with your eyes closed by the time he speaks again.

“I’m guessing you realised a while ago, then.” He says and it’s more of a statement than a question.

You nod again.

“It was more of inkling than anything. I know I don’t have a reputation of being the brightest spark in our team but one can only have so many hints dropped on their heads before they start to realise what’s going on.”  
The truth was Roxy had been the one to spell it out initially, but after that you’d started to see signs of it everywhere. It fed your ego and made you feel important so soon you started to look for his little hints. It was always something or another – passive aggressive protectiveness, ironic crude compliments or sometimes just the latest brobot updates making the robot that more tentative in ways which just didn’t seem platonic. At other points he would go stone cold for weeks at a time and you’d miss the affection that came in drips and drabs. Then you’d found yourself saying things to coax him, or to just give him the opportunity. Dirk always took the bait and was soon back to his peculiar self.

“Are you chill with that?” His voice is totally casual but he’s turned a little where he’s sat to face you and you can feel his eyes burning into your face, trying to gauge ever minute movement there to predict what you’re going to say. It makes you nervous and you hate those sunglasses even more than usual and have to stop yourself from just reaching over and pulling them from his face. He’d probably cut your arm off before you could even touch them.

What a stupid way to phrase it. Are you chill with it? Well no, ‘chill’ is nothing like a word you’d to describe how you felt about the whole situation. Chill would be not caring, being unaffected and blasé and most of all... cold about it all. Dirk makes your chest race, fills you with adrenaline, puts energy under your skin and makes you feel like the world is rushing faster than you can keep up and at some point he scares the shit out of you and freaks you out but lord knows no emotion you feel for him could be described as cold. He’s a heat under your skin that has been burning even brighter since you’d held his life in your hands and it’s addictive as it is terrifying but you can’t just tell him that. So you just agree.

“Absolutely.” You say, but he doesn’t relax. You took your time to mull over your answer and it’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you. You suppose it wasn’t a very convincing lie after all.

He watches you for a little longer, maybe hoping you’re going to say something but as the silence stretches he sits back against the wall again, and you see his fists clench slightly in his lap. When did you start paying so much attention to his body language? You’re pretty sure it was as soon as you realised he was doing the same thing to you, and it has just gone from there. You’re both suddenly hyper tentative to each other and it just all feels so heavy and unnecessary. Can’t he just relax? It’s putting you on an edge that’s pretty emotionally exhausting. Maybe he’s doing it deliberately to coax some sort of action out of you but – damn, now you’re even catching his neurotic tendencies.

Sighing with frustration suddenly, so loudly that he actually jumps you curse the tension that feels as thick as soup between the two of you and reassure yourself that you’re just far too much of a man to tolerate it. It’s just stupid, complicated and far too delicate to be anything you’d want to mess with. This doesn’t happen in movies damn it! Things are cut and dry and maybe you should have just dipped him as soon as you’d met him in person a few weeks prior. Yeah, that would have done it and you could be getting on with your lives by now. But then again maybe you ought to talk it out.

“Hey uh, do you think you could perhaps look at me, chum?” You force a chuckle that sounds pretty damn fake even by your standards and he doesn’t comply straight away, instead just snorting indignantly in the space of actually saying anything. Not that you can blame him because the way your voice sounds after so much quiet is pretty jarring.  
When he does glance back though, it barely helps as you’re met with a reflection of your own face in those stupid, godforsaken glasses.

They have to go. Like, right now.

Frankly you’re surprised you put up with them for so long. With wavering confidence you reach up to rid him of them.

Your hands have never moved slower than when they reach up to take his glasses. You’d honestly expected him to stop you, to swat your hands away or to tell you to quit it and that’s why you take your time. You want him to know you’ll stop if he wants you to, but he doesn’t say a word. From where you’ve leant in you can hear his breath catching in his throat each time he breathes. You lift the shades off of his nose and fold the arms back behind them before setting them down on the ground to the side of where you’re both sat. The whole time you keep your eyes on the glasses and off of Dirk’s face but as you glance back he’s not looking at you. His eyes are on the ground and you feel a rush of fondness when you see a sprinkling of freckles covering the bridge of his nose – you hadn’t noticed them before, but it’s fair to say the last time you’d been this close you’d been pretty distracted. Something about them really solidifies that this is the real Dirk, a live one right there in front of you. And with the glasses gone, it’s easier to push back the horrific images of his blood splattered head in your hands. You can actually look at him now, run your eyes down the side of his neck and onto the junction of shoulders he hadn’t had before. There are more freckles there too and you wonder where else he has them.

When you look back to his face you meet his gaze and realise he’s probably been studying your face as much as you had been his. It makes your cheeks feel warmer than they already were and you’d laugh tentatively if the quiet didn’t feel like it would physically shatter if you did. You’re struck by just how pretty he is and how without his glasses his features are a lot softer. His eyes dart across your face and he looks almost worried, eyebrows raised slightly and expression completely tense and expectant.  
You’d just been planning on carrying on some sort of conversation with him now but your mouth has gone dry and your forced confidence has all but drained, leaving nothing more than a stomach full of butterflies and a head full of cotton. You don’t want to talk anymore because that gets you nowhere – you just want to kiss him. This has all gone on too long and suddenly it feels like now or fucking never.

The air is feeling thick and you were just about to either flake out and sit back with a stupid comment or just grab him by the neck and pull him to you when finally shifts to lean in. Whether it’s because of the way he’s sat or otherwise he doesn’t close the gap and just hangs close enough to you that you can feel his breath on your lips. It’s sweet, shaky and warm and hammers the last nail in your coffin. You can’t help but delicately take his jaw between your thumb and forefinger, as if to hold on in case he disappears, before pressing your mouths together. There’s no tang of hot, metallic blood this time and although you both barely move, his breath is still there to remind you he’s alive. For a moment you both stay still, lips just pressed gently together before you find yourself again and actually kiss him. Very lightly you pull his bottom lip between yours and he’s only moments behind, starting to kiss you back as if he suddenly remembered that that was a thing he could do.  
  
As he starts to work his mouth against yours you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding because now this is unknown territory to you too. You’re thrown deeper when gloved hands that shake hard enough for you to feel it suddenly bury themselves in the back of your hair and he’s pulling you closer. You have to tilt your head to the side to stop your noses from pressing together. Kneading your fingers where they’d found purchase at the back of his neck you’re dimly aware of how with each movement you’re both getting braver and your kisses are steadily getting firmer. They start soft like butterflies, quick and light at first but as the situation dawns hazily on you both an almost panicky, frantic edge has you kissing him harder. The flesh on the back of his neck is cool against your hot hands and before long you’re pulling him to you just as hard as he’s tugging on your hair.

It’s electric the way he makes you feel. Like there’s a physical force pulling you to him that you couldn’t fight even if you tried and each time you catch the sensation of his tongue on your bottom lip you shudder. It was like you’d flicked a switch in him; where he had been cautious and careful earlier he was now holding onto you tight, almost possessively and as if he was expecting you to run away at any given opportunity. The blatant honesty of how much he wants you is intoxicating and you’re suddenly not quite so embarrassed to be kissing him back so heatedly. Opening your mouth a little wider you taste his breath and push your tongues together which sends Dirk shuddering as he full on wraps his arms around your neck. The age old question of what he’d taste like is answered and you honestly don’t know what to do with the information.

You can’t even move your hands from the base of his neck because every other second you have to remind yourself that he’s alive. Between what you’d expected and that awful ordeal back beside the volcano you’d painted a gallery of pictures in your head of what this moment would be like, but none of them had turned out to be accurate. You thought maybe he’d come straight onto you and leave you barely any room to resist him, bring it up at the first chance for desperately technical debate or even just assume you were already his because of the damn bravado he threw around but in the end you’re both just kids and his confidence or narcissism doesn’t stretch as far as you’d thought. The truth is he isn’t what you were expecting, but he’s real and with his pulse hammering under your fingertips he’s kissing you like he won’t ever let you forget it.  
Pulling back takes an incredible effort and even when you do you leave your palms resting on his collar bone, with your fingers just over the cusp of his shoulders and only move back enough to be able to breathe. His grip in your hair relaxes but he doesn’t let go either, lingering close to you with his eyes still shut and his wet lips parted.

You breathe each other’s air for a moment just like that, feeling the warmth positively radiating from every single inch of him whilst the thoughts that had been so easily snuffed out return to you with a vengeance. But this time it’s a giddy, accomplished happiness that fills your chest and rushes up your throat as you realise that Jesus Christ, you’re macking on your best bro. It just seems so ridiculous to you that out of your group of friends it had come to this. If the lot of you had been in some film or another you just know everyone would have grouped you with Jane and Dirk with Roxy. That’s just how things went, but here you were, sat in some ruins, clutching his shoulders and kissing a dude. Pure Hollywood.

You don’t realise you’ve started to laugh quietly until you hear him join in, a desperately honest, bubbling noise that sounds just as relieved as it does joyous. As you sit laughing quietly like idiots, foreheads pressed together in the pulsing light cast from the window you feel Dirk starting to relax under your hands before he sits up to wrap his arms around your shoulders and hug you tightly.  
It’s pretty strange to have gone from barely touching him at all to this in the space of what must have been a few minutes but your free arm winds around his waist almost automatically whilst you use the other to steady yourself as he almost knocks you back with the force of his embrace.  
“Steady on there, mate!” You grin, unable to keep the smile off of your face even as he lets go and sits back, face unmistakably flushed as he settles against the wall, closer to you this time and with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He fights it out of habit for a moment before it splits his face and he’s laughing a little again.

“Sorry, English.” He says, tilting his head against the wall and covering his eyes with his hand briefly before it falls back to his side.  
“I just... well, shit.” He manages, shaking his head in disbelief.  
“You’ve successfully taken my breath away I would never have thought that you of all people had it in you.” He jokes, grinning brightly at you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach dance.

“That’s because you’re an asshole who continues to underestimate me in literally every aspect of my life.” You laugh with a snort, punching his shoulder softly.

“Something like that.” He agrees with a shrug and that same vibrant smile that’s quickly becoming one of your favourite things in the world. It only widens even as he covers his face again when you casually take his hand, watching the pink tinge to his cheeks glow as he faces the ceiling.

-  
It stays like that for a few months. Both of you giddy to be in each other’s presence and he settles back into his usual bravado that you know so well. In the evenings he softens when you’re alone and you start to know a whole different side to Dirk that he usually guards. You talk absolute bullshit until the early hours of the morning, fight together and at one point you even ask him to give you a tattoo to match his. It’s great and you’re so fucking happy for a while until things start to change.

Your session is void. It’s void and pointless and there is barely anything to do. You all start to realise that you’re destined to do pretty much fuck all and it tests your patience. Dirk is ambitious and hates feeling unproductive and you have a shitty attention span and long for excitement. The boredom starts feeling suffocating and soon you’re itching for challenge and change and as Dirk starts to turn to you for constant reassurance of his worth and importance it gets overpowering. You’re both already stretched and it brings out the worst in you. He’s always been neurotic but his control slips as he trusts you more with his emotions and soon you’re feeling smothered and start avoiding him. That makes him panic and things only get worse until you’re ignoring his calls and his texts and you don’t make him smile anymore.  
You feel like an asshole but soon enough it’s gone too far for you to do anything because you know he feels betrayed and abandoned and he knows you feel possessed and stifled.  
You blame your session, your upbringing and sometimes you find yourself blaming him a little but above all you really blame yourself.

Things get a little crazy for a while when the cherubs give you the jujus and in your candy coated haze you start to think that this might be exactly what you need. When it’s all over you can start again and you can apologise and you can fix things but – then he breaks up with you.

In a million years you couldn’t have predicted that. It had always been him trailing you from day one and yet all it had taken was a sugar induced reality check for him to realise how badly you had been treating him and it was all over. The trickster bullshit won’t even let you feel sad about it as you can’t process any emotions properly that aren’t delirious glee so when you finally sober up all you’re left with is this crushing guilt hangover and the feeling like you’ve lost all of your friends.

When you’d been with Dirk you had kind of neglected Roxy and Jane. Jane was upset with you and you could understand why, but Roxy had always been understanding and good to you even when you thought you hadn’t deserved it. But eventually even her patience with you was spent and sure enough you were left thinking perhaps you weren’t meant to have any relationships, romantic or otherwise. Everyone you interacted with seemed to be worse off for it and steadily they were getting over you.

Your pointless role in the game gave you a lot of time to think about it and it wasn’t long before you had to smother yourself with fake confidence just to cope.

That only works as long as there is someone around to believe it though, and so when you’re alone your mind easily wanders. You wonder if he ever thinks back to your time together before things went to shit, back when you made each other happy like no one else could.

Back when you still had people you could confidently call friends.

You were reminded pretty damn hard how true it is that you never appreciate something until it’s gone.

Although it makes you feel pathetic to have not totally given up the ghost, you suppose there must be a reason hope is your aspect. Because despite everything that might say otherwise, you really hope this isn’t it it.

That it’s not the end of the line for you and that you’ll have the chance to make it up to him.

To make it up to all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to include a smut scene but that didn't happen and I just made myself sad :( BUT I'll do something like that soon enough. I just wanted to evaluate their relationship a little as thought process is something we just don't ever see in canon. Plus you never see this kinda shit from Jake's pov so what, I self indulged. Please note that just because Jake blames himself in this fic it doesn't mean I agree! They're both emotionally stunted kids with probs and I get that. Otp for life tho.  
> Pls comment cuz it fuels me - even like, fic ideas would be fab.
> 
> (ALSO I JUST REALISED I MADE A MISTAKE! This happens on LOTAK not LOMAX - I got them mixed up. Not sure if anyone will take notice and I'm too lazy to change it. But yeah this is on Dirk's planet not Jake's oops.)


End file.
